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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25303597">purpose</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedphilosopher/pseuds/sleepdeprivedphilosopher'>sleepdeprivedphilosopher</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Merlin (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Depression, Ficlet, First In The Fandom, Gen, I'll never be over merlin, Merlin deserves better, One Shot, Post-Canon, Stream of Consciousness, and I've accepted that, and a purpose, damn you bbc, hell we all deserve better, i hope you're happy, look what you've done powers that be, merlin is v sad, no beta we die like men, someone give this child a hug, the long and depressing life of merlin, the poor boy needs a nap, you've fucked up a perfectly good merlin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:15:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25303597</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepdeprivedphilosopher/pseuds/sleepdeprivedphilosopher</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin doesn't know what the point of him is, and he is losing hope that he'll ever get an answer.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Merlin &amp; Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), but I ship em so you can read it that way if ya like, this isn't particularly shippy - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>purpose</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>hey void, </p><p>so bbc merlin is my favorite show and I've been lurking around the fandom for years. despite that I've never written anything for this fandom. </p><p>but I've never actually gotten over the way that merlin ended (and I never will) so I couldn't stop thinking about how tired merlin must be after centuries of waiting. </p><p>and so this fic was born. this very sad very angsty fic. but it does end on a hopeful note because damnit merlin deserves that. </p><p>anyway</p><p>um</p><p>enjoy?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It took him until the 13th century to realize that magic was disappearing.</p><p>Well, that wasn't entirely correct. His magic wasn't disappearing, maybe that was why it took him so many centuries to notice (that plus his grief and loneliness). People weren't being born with magic anymore.</p><p>True magic anyway. Magic exists in some form in everything. In the way nature works and how certain people always know when to flip a pancake or know exactly when their microwaves will go off. When a person knows exactly what another is feeling because it feels like their emotions too, and how they always know exactly what to say to ease another person's pain.</p><p>Some people have remnants of magic, but that is all.</p><p>Except in Merlin's case because somehow throughout his very long life, his magic had been getting stronger, getting bigger. Before, his magic had felt like the ocean deep and vast and unable to comprehend it's depths, but now it felt limitless like he has a universe in his chest.</p><p>It took him even longer to realize that the magic in the world was pouring into him. Merlin wasn't sure why. He didn't know who to ask. He just knew that magic itself got smaller and smaller as time went on, while his magic got bigger and bigger.</p><p>He spent centuries like that. Watching with growing resigned sadness as magic vanished from the world. Magic turned into legend, and fairy tales and people forgot how to speak with it.</p><p>Merlin became the last of his kind. The last magic-user to walk the Earth.</p><p>And he didn't know what to do with it. He didn't know what his magic was <em>for</em> outside of protecting Arthur, and since he failed at that, he wondered why he still had it and, more importantly, why he couldn't seem to <em>die</em> like the rest of magic kind.</p><p>It wasn't like they gave him a manual when they assigned him the role of Emrys. No one told Merlin anything. When Arthur died, he sought out the druids, but they also had no answers. No one knew what to do with Merlin least of all himself. At first, he tried to interfere (to make a difference), but he grew tired after a few centuries. Humans never changed. History kept repeating, and Merlin's done trying to change the outcome.</p><p>So wars raged on first with magic then without. Technology replaced magic's destructive power, and the atom bomb impressed even him with its magnitude.</p><p>They promised that someday Arthur would return, but it was getting harder to believe in that as time passed. It wasn't like he doubted it <em>could</em> happen. It was more like he didn't see <em>the point</em>. Arthur couldn't swing his sword at world wars or global politics. What could he really do in an age that was so different from the one he left?</p><p>To be fair, Merlin didn't know what the point of him was either. If magic was on its way out (and it clearly was), why was Merlin the expectation? Did they just forget about him? Or did they die off like everything else Merlin had ever known?</p><p>It's a depressing thought that he doesn't like to dwell on.</p><p>He'd believed before in a big picture. In a reason for everything, <em>in a reason for him</em>, but now? Now he didn't. Now it all just seemed random or maybe cruel. Like whoever or whatever was behind the scenes was just amusing themselves at the shit they created, not really caring about who it affected.</p><p>They sound very human to him.</p><p>So admittedly, when he felt a pull in his magic, he didn't know what to think. Even when that pull led him to Avalon's shores, one of the few places where magic remained not a forgotten voice, but a strong presence (strong enough to keep it hidden) where he'd set Arthur to rest, Merlin still hadn't gotten the picture.</p><p>He'd stopped in front of the vast lake in front of him, and he didn't feel hope he felt anger.</p><p>"I don't know who you are," he yelled at the lake, "but I'm done with being toyed with, I'm done not having answers, what is the point!"</p><p>Merlin's shoulders were shaking as dark clouds formed overhead and lightning struck the ground. He couldn't breathe. He'd never felt so helpless and so full of rage.</p><p>"You took him from me," his eyes burned and his throat was sore, "you took him away from me, and now you taunt me, bring me back where I lost him, and you're throwing my failure in my face!"</p><p>Merlin swung his arm, and a tree came unrooted. He flung out his hand, and a wave obeyed his command, crashing into the shoreline. The wind picked up around him, whipping his hair and his clothes.</p><p>"What do you want from me!" He screamed, with magic pouring out of him like a flood. "What is the point of me, of all the suffering I've caused and gone through, why am I still alive!"</p><p>Nothing answered him.</p><p>Merlin fell to his knees.</p><p>The storm quieted.</p><p>The lake settled.</p><p>"Tell me what you want," he pleaded once more.</p><p>The lake remained silent.</p><p>And Merlin was tired. He didn't think he had any hope left to lose. But he's tired, and he's old. He's pretty sure he's the oldest thing on Earth (excluding perhaps a few sea creatures because the ocean has its own magic).</p><p>But he's old, and he's tired.</p><p>And he's finally lost his hope.</p><p>So Merlin ceases to be.</p><p>***</p><p>The man holds vigil at the edge of Avalon, the edge of magic, of everything, of who he'd been before, and he hasn't moved. He intends to remain there forever. There's no point in leaving.</p><p>
  <em>There's no point in him.</em>
</p><p>So he stays, and he watches the lake. He doesn't eat. He does not need food. He feels his magic grow, but he doesn't care.</p><p>The man doesn't care because the man no longer exists. He just watches the lake.</p><p>He's lost track of how long he's been watching when a hand grips his shoulder. The hand is warmer than he remembers.</p><p>"Merlin," a familiar voice says.</p><p>Merlin looks up at the rising sun.</p><p>And smiles.</p><p>"Arthur."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>this post was completed at 3:25 on a thursday morning. this is not unusual. in fact I think I've managed to completely flip my sleep pattern.</p><p>probably not a good thing. </p><p>-still sleep deprived.</p><p> </p><p>come find me on tumblr! <a href="https://sleepdeprivedphilosopher.tumblr.com//">@sleepdeprivedphilosopher</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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